The Lost

Within the past year my high school has lost two students by suicide.

      Crystal was not someone I feel comfortable saying was a friend, she was in my homeroom and a person I might talk to. However her best friend is a wonderful person who is very dear to me. Crystal's death hit her so hard it was unimaginable. To make matters worse, Crystal died on her birthday. I spent the next week watching the person I consider my best friend at school hurt to no end. She would miss days, leave class to go to the guidance counselor's office, and just refuse to talk to me or anyone. I wanted so badly to do anything for her, but I knew with all the attention she was getting from others and how she reacted, she just didn't want it. Each person handles death differently, and she just needed space from everyone, which she wasn't getting.

      Time went on and Crystal's funeral came and went, slowly my friend began to cope and come into her normal self. I know it's still hard for her and with Crystal's anniversary not too far away, I can only hope to help anyway I can.

     Hunter wasn't someone I saw regularly, he was in my mother's math class but that was about it with my interactions with him. While I didn't know him, his sister was in my English class and we would talk from time to time. His death came especially hard to some, less than a year since Crystal, during exams week. Hunter was a great friend and important to those around him, he will be missed by so many.

      No one will truly know what Crystal or Hunter were thinking and what lead to such measures. And because of this the school has shown a video to the students of not only the principal telling them how important they are and they will always have someone to speak to, but also about suicide itself. Death cannot be stopped, but it is always possible to help those around you. If you feel depressed or are thinking of suicide, please try to find something/someone to help.

This is my view of the events of what happened that year, it does not reflect the views of anyone else.

Musically Living

    Have you ever listened to an interview of your favorite singer or band on youtube and heard the musicians who influenced them, then looked those people up for their music? For example, I'm in a very big Fall Out Boy faze right now and I've been listening to interviews they have done about their music, influences, and just random things. One of the things they are continually asked is what type of music they listen to and during what time/mood. Because of this, I just can't help but know that the main vocalist, Patrick Stump, likes to listen to Earth, Wind & Fire. Then, out of curiosity, I looked up Earth, Wind & Fire to see the what they performed and how they sounded. Let me just say, they wouldn't be my first pick of music. It's not that they're bad, they aren't! I just prefer songs like Reflections by MisterWives or Ghost by Ella Henderson right now, and that will probably change in a few weeks or so. My taste in music depends highly on my mood and the beat of a song. Being the proud Latina I am, sometimes I really need an upbeat song like Bailando (Spanish Version) by Enrique Iglesias or a Shakira song like Loca. Then there are other times when I need Fall Out Boy and possibly Set It Off songs to help me with a bad day, but then there is also a time when I need to calm down and I'll listen to songs like Money On My Mind by Sam Smith.
     Wow, okay. I just listed a ton of bands/singers and songs. I'm a very complex person and it can be difficult for not only me, but those around me. So thank you for listening, well reading really, my little rant.

The Normal Exception part 3

     In honor of yesterday's events, I thought this part could be about how weird my body can be (and I don't mean that in a sexual way). Starting last winter my knee decided to swell and hurt to the point I had to stay in bed a few days because I couldn't move it or anything. Within a week's time it was fine again and I didn't really worry about it again, until I went with my school to a trip to D.C. for a day. The trip passed without too many problems, that was until we got to the mall - which was our last stop before heading back - where it decided to swell again and got so bad that I had to have one of my friends piggy back ride me to the bus. And M. being the jerk that he is, only held my purse for about ten seconds before handing it off to T. The return trip wasn't bad, I just couldn't really bend my knee and had to stretch it out in the aisle.
     When I got back home, it was okay, but the next day it was getting worse and worse. In the afternoon I finally gave up thinking it would magically get better and asked my mom to take me to the hospital for them to take a look. After waiting for a while, it was the E.R. what else can you expect, I was taken back for the nurses to see if they could figure it out and then for x-rays. The doctor came back to say that they saw floating cartilage behind my knee cap. I was sent home in a knee immobilizer and 800 mg of ibuprofen. What the doctor didn't know - I wasn't even given the chance to tell them - is that I've become immune to pain meds due to the amount of joint and back pain I constantly have.
      It's pretty well know around where I live that if you have something wrong with your bones or the like, you go to a doctor about an hour away. He is the best as far as I'm concerned. Anyway, following the local hospital's diagnosis, I scheduled an appointment with the orthopedist. I went down there, and the doctor said that nothing was wrong and that everything looked asymmetrical. At the time my knee was actually starting to heal again and I knew it would be fine in a few days. So we left with the intention of going and getting a MRI done should my knee continue to swell and hurt. With how annoying my body can be, my knee got better and I didn't need to have an MRI done, so nothing really came from the visit.
     About the second week of January my knee once again began to swell, only this time it was much worse in both size and pain. That night I went to the E.R. again, I had x-rays done only this time they didn't say anything about floating cartilage, nor did they see anything. This happened on a Saturday, I believe, the following Tuesday I went back down to see the orthopedist. The doctor there, unlike anyone at the hospital, saw something on my knee, a bump I guess you could call it. He thought it was worth taking a look at, and his next day just so happened to be when he would be doing surgeries. So the very next day I went back down for knee surgery.

One thing they don't really tell you about surgeries is that the anesthesiologist doesn't like for people to eat or drink or just have anything in their stomach before the procedure just incase they get sick and have to throw up. This meant that I couldn't eat anything after midnight.

                                     To say I wasn't in a good mood was an understatement, I was tired, hungry, and very upset with pretty much everyone. When the hospital called to say they had a time for my surgery, we were already on the road down there and at that point I just wanted to hurry things along so I could eat afterwards. Well, since this was my first ever surgery I also didn't know that you had to take EVERYTHING off. Meaning I thought I could stay in at least my bra and underwear. Boy was I wrong. You have to take every little piece of clothing, jewelry, anything you had on off and put on the stupid dress the nurses give you. My mood went from bad to worse when I found out that little piece of wonderful news. But wanting to get better and no long have the pain and trouble with my knee, I did what I had to. So I changed into the dress, was covered with a heated blanket, and had socks but on my feet (O.R.s are actually supposed to be really cold to keep them clean).

       The anesthesiologist came in with one of the nurses to explain what was sorta going to happen and how I was going to be put to sleep. Another nurse in the mean time put a very large IV in my arm which would do its normal job along with administer the anesthesia. (On a side note, I am a diabetic who was diagnosed at the age of 17 months. When I was about four I began a long period of time where I was absolutely terrified of needles and to this day I still can't watch when I have to have my blood drawn of have large shots done.) And let me tell you, that fucker hurt. The anesthesiologist continued to tell me that the anesthesia would probably be administered through the IV and then once I was under I would have a tube put in my throat to help me breath. I wouldn't remember it, most likely, and would only come out with a sore throat. As I've mentioned, I'm somewhat immune to pain meds, so I brought up the subject to the anesthesiologist who just said that the medicine or drugs they were giving me were very strong and I don't have to worry about it. She then reassured me by saying if there was a chance it wasn't working the mask they put on me could be used to give me added knockout meds.

       With that, the orthopedist came in to ask me if I was ready and then wheeled the bed and me out of the room and on my way to the O.R. My last memory of before the surgery was being asked if I could help the move my body from the bed I was in from the original room onto the bed of the O.R. After that, I was out like a light. The next thing I remember was waking up in so much pain that I wish the nurse that had woken me up had just left me asleep. I immediately began to cry, but it wasn't like I could do much since I was still under the influence of the anesthesia. The nurse could see I was in pain and asked me, just be sure I guess, and all I could do was nod. I was given some medicine as my mom came in the room. She came over to hold my hand and try to help me as much as she could until the meds kicked in. The nurse mentioned that the pain would go away in about half an hour or so, the time seemed to last forever yet at the same time fly by without me being completely free from the anesthesia effects. 

      Once the meds did begin to take effect, it was like I was being pushed out of the hospital, literally and figuratively. I had the okay from the doctor and the nurses so a lady - I don't remember her name but I do know she was a volunteer from her name tag - wheeled me out front where my mother had the car ready for me. We left the hospital and went out to dinner at LongHorn, since I really hadn't had anything other than some goldfish they gave me when I woke up. Let me tell you, dinner was great thanks to those meds. The waiter was a nice, handsome guy and kinda funny. When my mother asked if the butter was real, he replied yeah it was, it had a picture of a cow on the front. To a non high me, that would have been 'haha' funny, to on a pain meds high me, well let's just say I laughed not only for a good five minutes, but also each time he came back to the table after that. The trip back home wasn't nearly as exciting, mainly because I spent the hour or so asleep. This is where the story gets boring...got home...went back to sleep...woke up every four hours to take more pain meds...went back to sleep.

     Now let me tell you kids - or adults - oxycodone, the pain meds I was taking, can be good for the first couple of days, but after that you feel like shit. See the doctor tells you to take them for as long as you need to. What they don't say is that after the pain in that part of the body is gone, you don't need the meds anymore. Oxycodone doesn't help with surface pain, just deeper pain. So I thought, well my knee hurts from where they cut it open, let me keep taking the meds. Well, the first time I had to go back to the orthopedist to have the gauze changed, I screamed my head off and didn't talk the rest of the day. However while we were there the doctor told me I could take more than just one of the pills, so again at this point I was medicated, I thought great now maybe this pain will go away. Not! All it served to do was make me feel like I had to throw up, I couldn't eat, and just overall felt like shit. When the doctor did tell me that the meds don't handle the surface pain, I decided to take myself off of them. Less than a week after my surgery I was off the oxycodone and getting back to feeling like my normal self again. 

     At the beginning of this post I said it was going to be in honor of what happened yesterday, so what did happen yesterday? Well instead of closing the cut after the surgery, the doctor decided to keep it open so he could check on it and make sure it wasn't infected. Now every three to four days I have to go back to see him so he can rip the gauze out and replace it. The first and second time it had to be done I screamed. I have come to realize that your knees are very sensitive places. Luckily the last two times it was better and mostly uncomfortable and just a little painful. As time passes, the cut is healing itself and closing by itself, so each time it gets repacked it is more and more shallow. Yesterday he took it out and I look and even asked, "Was that it?" Then he decided to be mean and start prodding it to see how it was doing. Like I said, it was uncomfortable and now a little sore. 

    Very long story short, don't mess up your knees. It hurts like hell if you have to have something done to them.

   Thank you for sticking with me through this insanely long post and of course if you have any question or anything, feel free to message me. 

The Normal Exception part 2

    This post has to do with things that happened recently, as in over Christmas break. Without further delay, the story.....


    During the same semester I meet the guy who was going to be my first boyfriend, I also had class with a guy who would end up being one of my closest friend and introduce me to others who I would become friends with. If you were to ask him - M. - he'd say that I was cold and standoffish, but really I was just shy. M. wouldn't leave me alone, to which I'm grateful for, and we became friends because of it. It became the norm for M. to have bonfires and I would meet a few of his other friends and the guy I'd one day have a crush on. But that doesn't matter right now, what does is the fact that over Christmas break he came home from college and we started hanging out again.
    Of course I was extremely happy, I got to see a good friend and have some fun hanging out with him. Well before Christmas he had one of his bonfires and it was good and all but I met a girl that I learned later had a thing for our other friend T. - yes the same guy M. was trying to set me up with earlier in the year. To me, she gave of a little bit of a psycho vibe. Anyway, I had brought two other friends of mine who had been invited over and sadly we had to leave early because of one.
    I didn't get a chance to see my friends again really until M. called me one day saying he wanted to throw a New Years party in my apartments' clubhouse. I didn't care and it gave me a chance to see at least some of the others again. Well before everyone got there I found out from M. that the girl who gave off the psycho vibe and T. had a make out session in which the girl started telling T. what to do.

   Just to give you some side information, T. is somewhat timid/unsure around strong willed women and he definitely doesn't want to be told what to do.

    So after that happened he immediately ended things with her and never wanted to see her again. I was only too happy because that meant she wouldn't be coming to the New Years party.
    As the night went on, it went from good and fun to bad because of some other tenants, but I'm not going into that. After midnight people started to head home, and T. took the chance to kiss me saying he wasn't sure if he wanted to date me or not and it would help him figure it out. Initially I was happy, I mean it could mean that something could happen between us right? But once again in the sad story of my love life, he never mentioned it again and I got tired of waiting, so I just gave up and moved passed him.
     With everything happening, Christmas break ended and I became closer friends with the girl M. was trying to get with and M. and T. went back to their college lives.

The Normal Exception part 1

    As I've said before, my life is pretty normal with nothing too exciting. Well you could say that the last year hasn't counted, and I don't mean the last school year or 2014, but the 365 calendar days. At the beginning of the second semester last year I meet a guy who I thought was nice and interesting. Needless to say he wasn't what I thought he was.


   I should have know better when I found out that during rehearsals for the school musicals he was telling everyone we were dating when we were actually just talking in my mind, he was the first guy that'd become my boyfriend, but that comes later. So he was telling others this, later on he finally got the guts to actually ask me on a date. Nothing too big, just dinner and then going to see a movie. I'll never forget his theory on movie dates, always go to the movie first then dinner, that way if conversation ends you can talk about the movie. Anyway, things went okay and the entire time we were together I knew he wanted to join the Army and I figured, "Hey what can I do to stop him?" At one point we broke up and got back together less than a week later. I don't really remember why we broke up, something along the lines that he was pressuring me to have sex - without straight out saying it mind you - he was dealing and doing drugs, he had family crap he wasn't ready to face yet tried to make me do exactly that, and he just 'wasn't sure he wanted a relationship' right then. After we got back together I thought it was going to be better, so while my mother helped with the seniors' Project Graduation night, I secretly invited him over. Again he tried to get me to do stuff, only this time I was asleep - well half way, enough to know what he was doing, but not enough to stop him - and yes girls that is considered rape. That was close to the very end of the school year and he would be leaving soon for basic training with the Army. Once again we were near breaking up, and like the stupid teenage girl in her first real relationship, I didn't want it to end. But he did have to leave and we weren't at a good point in the relationship when he did.
     That summer I travel out of the country, meaning the only way I could talk to others was over the internet and Facebook. During that time I can to the realization, I didn't care if we talked or not, I didn't even want to be bothered by him. I was more focused on my friendship with the girl I consider a sister and my other friends, not him. With my new knowledge I traveled back home knowing that as soon as I could talk to him, I had to end it.
    At the same time I had a couple of friends who had graduated the year before and were now in college. One of these friends was determined to set me up with one of our other friends - T. So I started talking to T. and suddenly one day I got a call from my so called boyfriend, at which point I ended it - though I never really meant to over the phone but I was just so ready to be done with him! The same day T. asked me out and all we really did was talk since neither of us had the time to see each other let alone hang out so it didn't really go anywhere.

    And that my lovely readers was how my first and only, at this point, relationship began and ended. Because we still go to the same school and have some friends in common I have found out that in his latest relationship he got one of my friends pregnant (she miscarried), cheated on her with a freshman, could now be considered a petifile due to his age, and who the hell knows what else now.


    So this has been part one, ready for the rest heehee?

The Beginning

     So this is going, hopefully, to be a somewhat journal of my life, thoughts, experiences, and so on. Let's begin, my name is Allie and this is my story....

     Most of my days are pretty normal and boring. I'm a high school student - yeah I'm not telling the internet where - in my senior year. I'm finally getting out of one of the places I sometimes consider hell. And in the spirit of being completely honest, I battle with depression that comes and goes, though recently it has been coming more and more often. To help move past it I listen to music - mostly to Fall Out Boy (FOB) and other rock bands/songs - read, and talk to my friends. Not everyone knows what it's like and even my closest friends don't know what I'm going through. But on to better things right...?

     Since I was in middle school reading, books, and writing have been such a major part of my life. For a while I thought I was going to be a novelist, but I had to face the reality that I just couldn't sit down and focus like I would need to in order to write novels. So my focus changed direction to journalism and later on photography. At this point I have set the goal to go to college to become a photojournalist. However I didn't know much more beyond that, which leads me on to my next point. For my birthday this year (eighteen guys!) I got tickets to see FOB in concert this July and it got me thinking. Music, writing, traveling and even photography are each major parts of my life and what makes me who I am as a person, why not find a way to combine them? And so bringing this long story to a close, I want to be the person that travels with bands taking their pictures and writing for them or write for a magazine like - just to throw it out there - Rolling Stone and interview bands and things. 

     Just like any teen, I'm not completely sure what I want to do, I have an idea but not a whole lot more than that. Each person has a journey they have to travel, some don't go far while others do. I'm not sure which category I'm in either, I'll just have to travel the one live gives me.

   If you happen across my blog and have an questions, feel free to ask or even if you just want to talk. I just might be able to understand better than you think.